Unwinding
by DinoDina
Summary: In the aftermath of a bad anomaly, Jess takes Becker home. Episode coda to 4.4. Oneshot, Jecker.


Jess was halfway down the hall away from the locker room, still thinking of her bumping into Becker and moreso focused on his painted grunts—and that she hadn't imagined hearing them. She still felt awful about jostling his leg as she'd tried to help, and so resolutely turned around. She had to make up for it somehow: she could walk Becker to his car, hold his bag… something.

It had nothing at all to do with her ridiculous crush, and Becker was first and foremost a friend in pain.

"Becker?" she called as she entered the locker room again.

He looked up, startled—when did Becker ever look startled?—still in the same position as when Jess had left: half bent over his bag and with a pained frown on his face.

"Becker?"

"I'm fine."

"If you were fine, you'd be standing." Jess tried to sound more annoyed than worried, but the way Becker listed sideways had her firmly feeling the latter. "You don't even look like you'd make it to your car—are you planning to go home like this?"

"Yes, since Lester's making me stay there for at least a week."

"I don't think you're in a position to argue with him." Jess looked over her shoulder, waiting for someone to walk through the door to help tame Becker. He wouldn't listen, she knew—but she also knew how to be firm. She squared her shoulders. "I'm not leaving you here. I don't care what you say, you won't make it home alone safely."

"'Say'?"

"What?"

Becker was smiling, and now standing upright, though Jess could feel the strain he was under just by looking at him.

"You said you don't care what I say, not what I _think_—you agree: I _can_ get myself home."

"But not safely. I barely bumped you earlier, and you nearly fell over." She grabbed his bag and smiled to ease Becker's surprise. "Those classes you're having me take are paying off. Come on, I'll drive you."

Jess walked out first, just in case Becker needed some time to compose himself—and because her outfit was cute and _something_ needed to be normal and good that day.

"You know, there's chocolate in the car," Becker said as the elevator slowly took them to the garage. "I got it yesterday, but it was your day off, so…"

"Yeah?" Jess grinned as he trailed off. "Thanks."

"Someone's got to supply you, can't have it be my fault that the ARC's star coordinator starved to death."

Jess laughed as the lift doors opened to the mostly empty garage. It wasn't anything unusual, for them to leave so late—or to walk to their cars together—but Jess involuntarily shivered, recalling the events at the school, and didn't argue when Becker insisted on walking together rather than waiting for her to bring the car around.

Jess wondered if Becker had any food at home. Probably not. It was easy to stay on top of the shopping when it was three of them living together—if Jess forgot, either Connor or Abby got it—but Becker lived alone. And there was no way he was going to cook his own dinner tonight. Jess wasn't feeling much up to cooking, either, so she glanced sideways.

"Chinese?" she asked. She knew it was a weak spot of Becker's, and she was inclined to agree.

"Yeah." Becker nodded. "You can pick it up on the way, there's a place a few streets away—"

"We can get it delivered."

"You really don't have to. We can wait in the car, it's not that far out of the way.

"It's no bother," Jess said in a tone that she knew left no room for argument. It was the tone she used with Lester when he was being too sarcastic and with Matt when he was being too obtuse. She tried not to use it with Becker too much, but it worked. He didn't need to stay in the car longer than absolutely necessary. No, it would be much better to go straight to his flat, where he could change and relax properly.

Jess had a change of clothes, too. She always did: there was no predicting what could happen at the ARC, and while she enjoyed dressing up for work, it was always smart to have more functional clothes around.

"Not much longer," Jess said to fill the silence; she was to giving running commentary.

Becker chuckled. "I know."

But he didn't comment further, which gave Jess the opening to begin talking. It was one of the reasons she liked Becker—one of the _many_ reasons. He was easy to talk to, and though he teased sometimes, he was never vicious or mean-spirited. She felt comfortable, all pity and compassion aside, being with him after the anomaly they'd just dealt with.

She parked in the multistory garage that came with Becker's flat, as he'd flat-out refused to be dropped off closer to the entrance. So be it.

"Keys are in my bag," Becker said when Jess moved to carry it. "Let me take it. You've got your own stuff, right? You _are_ changing?"

"Yeah, I was planning on it." She noted the way his eyes had run over her body. Appreciatively, maybe? She was never quite sure.

"And you're paying," Becker continued. "It's the least I can do."

The least Becker could do was stop protesting and let her be in charge, but Jess sensed his need to regain control, his fear at losing that control. She'd gotten him home; she knew how to pick her battles, especially when he still had the strength to argue.

"Alright," she said, and set a slow pace so Becker wouldn't strain his leg.

It didn't really work because by the time they came into the flat, Becker having unlocked it with slightly more urgency than usual, Jess could see that he was barely standing. Knowing Becker so well, she would have been able to see it anyway; they'd had a whole year alone to get to know each other before Connor and Abby came back and Matt stopped being so antisocial.

"The menus are in the kitchen, I'll go—" Becker made a move to stand up from the sofa Jess had forced him onto.

She stopped him with a look. "I've got it."

Although they didn't spend much time together outside of work, Jess knew where the kitchen was and it only took her two tries to find the drawer that Becker kept the take-out menus in.

"Still Chinese?" she called.

Becker replied in the affirmative. Jess noted, satisfied, that he was still sitting. She joined him on the sofa, then, not sitting too close nor too far, and opened the menu between them. It was not the same place she'd ordered from before joining Becker on the stake-out—although they'd gone home together after that, too, before returning back to the ARC—but they'd gone there once before, soon after getting to know each other.

By now, Jess could confidently say that she knew Becker's order reasonably well. The prawn crackers were a must.

"I'm going to change," Becker said when she put the phone away, "if you don't mind."

"Of course not," Jess said. She understood his teasing, however, and didn't comment on how slowly he stood up. She followed suit, grabbing her bag. "You know, I think I'll take a shower. Change, too. We can watch a film after?"

Becker smiled down at her. "Sounds good."

Jess turned around to rummage in her bag while he retreated to the bedroom. For all her worrying, she understood his need for independence, and he'd suffered enough for one day; there was no need for Jess to see him struggling any more than necessary. By the time she heard Becker walk back to the sofa, Jess was already in the shower.

Becker had a nice shower. It came with the flat, of course: a nice, modern flat looking out onto London. As nice as Jess's, but different. A bit more sparse. Spartan, but not quite. It was clearly lived-in and loved, but where Jess favored bright colors and a slight clutter, Becker was utilitarian. He had a _very_ nice shower, though. Jess would never tire of it—in her more carefree moments, she thought she'd prefer to date the shower rather than Becker himself.

It wasn't true, naturally, but a light attitude to an annoying situation was always welcome. As was a delightfully modern shower.

As promised, Becker was waiting on the sofa when she came out, now dressed in comfortable tracksuit bottoms. There was enough room for Jess to sit next to him without being too close, but Becker had sat slightly off-center; the position placed them inconspicuously closer. Jess didn't sit down right away, however, choosing rather to look through his DVDs and feeling only slightly guilty for skipping over the grittier films—not that Becker had a lot of them. Jess supposed it was because of what he faced on a regular basis.

Jess liked romantic comedies. The effects were bright, the music was upbeat, and a happy ending was always guaranteed. There was little point, with few exceptions, in films with depressing or unsatisfactory endings. She was sad often enough. Bustling around Becker's flat—putting on the film, grabbing water, fetching a cushion for Becker to prop his leg up on—kept her thoughts at bay. A single pause and they flooded in like dinosaurs through an anomaly. They wouldn't go away; Jess never forgot such excursions. Time and positivity healed wounds, but she was raw and hurting, returning to her failure every time her thoughts managed to come forward.

"Sit down."

Jess made a face. She'd stood up for _something_, but all memory of it was gone. She made another face and did as told; Becker wasn't smiling like he usually was after his teasing, but was giving her a softer, welcoming smile, beckoning her to take the seat she'd so recently vacated.

As the film progressed, the more uncomfortable Jess became. The sofa was lovely, the film was as entertaining as ever, and the food was wonderful, but she felt Becker's tension at her side, not made any better by his stoic silence.

Jess stood to put away the food and shushed Becker when he made to protest. His glare—not even directed at her, just annoyed and pained—when she returned was as infuriating as it was hurtful.

"Is it your leg?"

"It's nothing."

"Becker—"

"Jess, sit down."

She huffed and crossed her arms but rejoined him. She'd already messed up once—watched a gild die and been unable to do anything about it but sit there and keep going—and Becker's obstinance was doing nothing to help. She needed something to go right.

Tucking her feet under her and turning to face Becker on the sofa, Jess bit her lip. "I just want to help."

"I'm sorry." Becker sighed loudly and threw his head back to rest on the back of the sofa. He paused and the film filled the silence. "But you don't need to be my caretaker. I can swallow my pride and get a crutch to hobble around for a few days. Don't feel like you have to stay, please. I'm awful at recovering."

"Then it's stupid to tell me to leave," Jess said frankly; she uncrossed her arms and smiled. "Of course I'm staying. I want to be here. As your friend."

"Thanks, I'd like that." Becker smiled. "I suppose I better shut up now and watch the film?"

"You better."

By the end of the film, Jess was tucked into Becker's side and not at all looking forward to waking him up to move to bed, but the film credits tossed a warm glow onto the room and she smiled: things were looking up.

**Alright, it's been a _while_ since I wrote for this show. Primeval fandom, you still around?**

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
